


you know i'll take my heart clean apart (if it helps yours beat)

by 90scyke (peachypiper), eggosandxmen



Category: X-23 (Comic), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: (lauras trans and kevins trans and sarah and rachel are GAY), Branding, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Abuse, F/F, Homophobia, M/M, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Weapon Plus, Weapon X Project, kevin from innocence lost is sarahs brother!, laura is autistic, laura is nonverbal a lot, rewrite of innocence lost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:55:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachypiper/pseuds/90scyke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggosandxmen/pseuds/eggosandxmen
Summary: A rewrite of innocence lost.





	you know i'll take my heart clean apart (if it helps yours beat)

**Author's Note:**

> this has been me and hart's project for a few months n we're excited to share it with you!!!! laura's trans!!!!! kevin's trans!! sarah's gay!! this is great!!

A bloody nose and broken rib is nothing to her.

  
It heals in seconds, of course, but she stays on the floor until Rice and the new woman left. Not moving means less chance of getting hit again, and just because it had healed didn't mean her rib wasn't still on fire.

  
Eventually, she drags herself off the floor. Her shirt is covered in blood - her own, this time around- so she shrugs it off and uses the hose in the corner to wash it. The blood itself, of course, doesn’t bother her - more the smell. The smell of blood brings back too much, too quickly.

  
She is still scrubbing at it when Dr. Kinney walks in. She doesn't turn around at first, though she knows that the doctor is waiting for acknowledgment - she finishes taking the blood off first before putting on the now-soaked shirt and turning around.

  
Dr. Kinney is smiling slightly. “I've heard lemon juice works wonders for blood.”

 

23 squints at her. “Lemon juice?” she repeats.

  
“It's juice from lemons. Obviously,” Dr. Kinney says, letting out a laugh.

  
The young girl huffs and sits down next to the doctor.

  
“You know,” Sarah says, “Wearing the same t-shirt every day does nothing for your fashion sense.”

  
This is most likely meant to be a joke, 23 thinks, because why would weapons need fashion sense?

  
“I did not realize I need one,” she mutters, smiling slightly.

  
Sarah full-on grins at that. “X-23?” she says.

  
She looks over at her. “Yes?”

  
“Tomorrow, I'm going to bring you War of the Worlds.”

  
She squints at the doctor. “What?”

  
“It's a book,” Sarah explains, then begins the basic plot while 23 listens.

  
This is the only good part of today, she decides.

  
Her mother would not hurt her.

  
\--

  
Her mother would not hurt her, but it seems everyone else will.

  
Today is check-up day. For most children, apparently, this means getting a shot and leaving.

  
For X-23 - who, of course, is not a child - it means getting her skin ripped from her arms and being thrown in the Tank.

  
The Tank is barely big enough for her now - when she first had the surgery, she could not reach the top. Now she bangs and she screams as it fills with water, and then there is only black.

  
When she wakes up, the new woman and Rice are staring at her. She covers her face and turns away. The woman drags her back to her cell by her hair. She does not scream.

  
She refuses to give them that satisfaction, the admiration of others, for making the animal cry. So she sits in silence. She does not scream.  
She will not scream.

  
\--

  
The cell is cold, pristine white porcelain and thin padded wallpaper doing nothing to stop the draft from the tiny slit of a window she’s been allowed. The voices of her keepers drift in and out of the cell, no more than murmurs. She knows that they can’t afford to let her hear them; even with her advanced senses, she wouldn’t understand them. She’s never been taught to.

  
“X-23?” It is a woman’s voice, soft and gentle, smelling of the laboratory and something else. Something pleasant. Her mother? But it is not her mother’s voice. She simply smells like her mother. “I have some, um. Some presents for you,” the voice says.

  
23 can smell the fear on the woman now. She supposes that it is because 23 is a weapon and dangerous. At least, that’s what she has been told.  
A small parcel is slipped through the food slot in 23’s door. It is wrapped in some kind of soft paper, with dark squiggles and shapes printed neatly in lines running down it. “Dr. Kinney will be with you shortly, 23.”

  
Her mother will be there with her. Her mother, who will not wrong her, who does not ever hurt her. She resists the urge to open the package. Animals like her do not have curiosity, but they do not feel excitement or love either. She should not feel these for Dr. Kinney. Dr. Rice and the new woman would punish her severely for it.

  
She pops a claw, toying with the twine bow on the parcel. Presents, the Facility worker called it. And they were for her? The twine frays as 23 runs her tiny claw under it. It cannot be for her. It must be a test, and it cannot be from her mother. She won’t believe it.

  
A familiar scent wafts toward 23 and she perks up, now alert. She places the present carefully under her cot, tucked away in the shadow so that Dr. Rice - if it is him - will not see it. The scent is so familiar, yet she cannot identify it. She is still groggy from the Tank this morning.

  
“X-23? It’s me, Dr. Kinney,” the person at the door says. 23 is so desperate to believe it, but she cannot let her guard down. This is still most likely a trap. “I’m going to come in now, okay?”

  
23 moves away from the door silently and throws a glance towards her cot. The parcel is not visible from the door. It will be safe if they have indeed set a trap for her. The door opens slowly and Dr. Kinney is there, her face shining with sweat and her lips parted in a wide smile, holding out her hands for 23 to take. 23 shies away from her, her breathing growing labored and quicker every second. She cannot even trust her mother anymore.

  
“Hey, 23, it’s okay. Shhhhh,” Sarah says and gently places her hand on 23’s small, bony shoulder. “I’m not here to take you away. You’re not in trouble. In fact, I thought you did remarkably at Testing today.” She smiles sympathetically. “Let’s go sit down on your bed. Do you have the present I sent you?”  
23 nods, still suspicious. It feels like her mother, and she feels real and sincere, but she’s still so afraid to trust her. She pulls away and wriggles under the cot to get the package. “Here,” she says simply. “Will it hurt me?”

  
“No. No, no of course not, 23. You can trust me,” Sarah says, pulling 23 up onto the bed next to her. “Look, we’re going to open the present I got you, okay? How does that sound?”

  
23 nods again and presents the wrapped rectangle to her mother. Sarah ruffles 23’s short, shaggy black hair, her fingers brushing lightly over the tattoo on her neck. 23 shudders at her mother’s touch, but curls up into her anyway. She is safe now.

  
Sarah takes the package from her daughter and slowly unties the string. “Hey, 23, do you want to unwrap it? It is your present, after all.” She hands the newspaper-covered present to 23, smiling again.

  
23 stares at it, not moving. She trusts her mother, but she does not trust the package. It is hiding something, and she does not like it. It is not what it says it is, she thinks. Cautiously, she unsheaths one of her claws and cuts a clean line through the paper. It falls around the inside of the package: a large rectangular brick of paper, with a painting of a reddish-orange moon and grainy yellow grass. She looks up at her mother, confused.

  
“What is this? I do not understand.”

“It’s a book, silly. I’m going to teach you to read. This is one of my favorite books when I was a kid. It’s called Dune. I bet you’ll like it.” She ruffles 23’s hair again, careful not to let her fingers drift near the tattoo. “The main character’s a bit like you.”

  
23 snuggles in closer to her mother, resting her head on Sarah’s thigh. “Okay. It will not hurt me?”

  
“‘Course not, kiddo. I love you. I’m never gonna hurt you,” Sarah says, placing her hand on 23’s back and rubbing it soothingly. “Again,” she adds, softly enough that her daughter can’t hear her.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS AND KUDOS!!


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